She Will Be Loved
by Icy Amour
Summary: After the death of her father Elizabeth Kirkland has to live with her brother, Alastair. They don't get along and everyday is a trial. Then Elizabeth meets Francis Bonnefoy. They become like siblings and everything is looking up. That is until Elizabeth realizes she loves Francis as more than a brother. Rated M for language and sexy time in a later chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello again! I'm back with some FrxFemUK for you guys. Sorry for the M rating, but these guys have such potty mouths and future sexy time.**

**I know most fans use 'Alice' as FemUK's human name. Well, I feel that name is SO played out. Since there is nothing official &amp; Elizabeth is also used (but not as commonly) so I used Elizabeth. To me it fit better. All unofficial names were chosen for various reasons. I apologize for any OOC-ness.**

**Anyhow this is the pseudo-prequal to "Always There: FACE Family". Now both are stand alone stories, but it is suggested you read this one first. Basically, this helps to explain Francis and Elizabeth's overly complicated relationship. Also trying to show that while the Kirklands have strained relationships they do care about each other. Their all to Tsundere for their own good. I hope everyone enjoys. Also, yes the title is yoinked from Maroon 5. It is important later.**

**I tried to make all the French pretty self-explanatory. I may go back to write translations. Constructive comments and favs are love! Also I own nothing but the story!  
**

* * *

"Why? Why does it have to be like this every day?" Elizabeth Kirkland sobbed as she sat crying in the back corner of the basement laundry room of her apartment building; The dank space having become her haven. Nearly, everyday for the last four months the little English girl had been in one fight or another with her brother and guardian, Alastair.

_'It's not my fault dinner burnt. I'm eleven for goodness sakes. I shouldn't be cooking anyway. Why can't I do anything right? I try so hard,'_ the blonde girl thought angrily as she pulled her knees tighter to her chest and her tears soaked into her grimy jeans. The little Brit was so entrenched in her sorrow that she did not hear the soft footsteps of someone approaching her.

"Are you okay, mon petite?" a voice with a French accent suddenly asked the crying girl. Elizabeth looked up in surprise through her teary lashes into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. As her vision cleared the Brit could see that those blue eyes belonged to the prettiest boy she had ever seen. His wavy, long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and his lovely full lips were pressed together in a worried line.

"Why are you crying, mon belle fille?" the boy asked as he set down the basket of laundry he held. He then proceeded to sit down next to Elizabeth. The Brit looked at the boy with curious, weary eyes.

_'Alastair would kill me if he knew I was talking to some strange boy. He hates it when I bother others,'_ the blonde girl thought as she inched away from the boy, but unable to pull her eyes away from him. The blue eyed boy looked at Elizabeth curiously and then grinned at her.

"Ah, I zee. We are not zuppozed to talk to ztrangerz are we, mon petite?" the French boy said his voice slightly teasing.

"I am not a baby. I can speak to whomever I bloody well please," Elizabeth said crossly her forest green eyes glaring at the boy and her cheeks red with anger.

"Ah, zo you can zpeak," the French boy teased and smiled brightly at his younger companion. Elizabeth was thankful her face was already red so the boy could not tell she was blushing.

"O-of course I can speak. I'm not simple," the little Brit said as she pulled her gaze away from the boy and buried her face in her knees again. The pretty boys face fell and he placed a comforting hand on the girl's back. She instantly stiffened under his touch, but relaxed when she realized he wasn't going to hurt her. This small reaction did not go unnoticed and the blonde boy began gently stroking the girl's long blonde hair that fell over her back.

"Do you want to talk about it? Mama zayz zhat if you talk about what iz bozhering you it 'elps to not bozher you," the blue eyed boy said gently. Elizabeth peeked up at the boy and saw he was being sincere. She wasn't sure if she trusted this boy, since she had just met him, but she needed to get this weight off of her chest.

"It's my brother, we had a fight because I burnt dinner," the blonde girl said dejectedly as she lifted her head so her chin rested on her knees.

"Why were you cooking? Where were your parentz? Why wazn't your brozher cooking?" the French boy asked a little peeved at the girl's lack of supervision.

"I don't have parents. My dad died four months ago and Alastair had to move here to take care of me. He was really mad about that," the girl said flatly.

"And your mama?" the blonde boy's irritation rising.

"My mum died when I was born. Alastair and my other brothers' say that was my fault too," the girl said mournfully fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

The French boy was struck dumb by this last statement. How could her brothers be so cruel? Brothers are supposed to love and care for little sisters not make them cry! They sat silently for several minutes and Elizabeth watched the boy from the corner of her eye. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something.

Abruptly, he snapped his fingers and nodded like he had come to a decision.

"All right, zince you 'ave 'orrible brozherz who 'ave failed at zheir dutiez zhere iz only one zolution. I will be your big brozher," the French boy said with a logical air and turned a brilliant smile on the green eyed girl. Elizabeth looked at him as if he had gone mad.

"How can you be my big brother? I don't even know your name," the little Brit said in confusion.

"Ah, desole. Proper introductionz are in order," the blonde boy said and cleared his throat. "Bonjour, mademoiselle. I am Francis Bonnefoy and I wish to fill zhe role of your big brozher. Will you accept my offer?"

The blonde extended his hand toward Elizabeth and she hesitated. Her weary green eyes looked into his hopeful blue ones and she found her resolve. She slipped her hand into his.

"Elizabeth Kirkland. It is nice to meet you Francis and I accept your offer. I mean you can't be any worse than the three I already have," the blonde girl said back handedly. It was a bad habit of hers to never show direct affection. Francis smiled broadly and pulled the girl into a tight hug.

"I 'ave alwayz wanted a little zister," the French boy said excitedly.

"Le-let me go, wanker," the little English girl sputtered and tried to break away from Francis. The Brit was not use to such strong forms of affection and did not trust the contact.

"Non, brozherz 'ug zisterz and I intend to 'ug you as often and as long as I can," Francis said with a chuckle and placed a kiss on the crown of the girl's head. The French boy then brought the pair to their feet and released the girl. Elizabeth attempted to straighten herself up, but was stopped by Francis taking hold of her hand.

"Come, mon lapin, let'z go and meet mon mama," the blonde boy said as he grabbed the laundry basket and pulled Elizabeth out of the laundry room.

"Why did you just call me a rabbit?" the Brit asked as she meekly struggled to free herself from the boys grasp.

"You zpeak Francais? Magnifique!" Francis exclaimed and squeezed Elizabeth's hand affectionately.

"I only know a little because it is what they are teaching us in school. You didn't answer my question," the green eyed girl said as the pair entered the elevator.

"Ah, well I found you 'iding in a little burrow like un lapin and you are adorable like one. Zo you zhall be mon lapin from now on," Francis explained and turned an adoring smile on the young girl. Elizabeth could feel her cheeks turning crimson and lowered her head in hopes of hiding them from the boy.

_'Is this what it feels like to have a friend? Is this what is feels like to be loved?' _the English girl thought to herself as they rode the elevator in silence.

* * *

From that day on to Elizabeth's immense pleasure (though she would never openly admit it) Francis became a constant companion. They bickered and teased each other mercilously as actual siblings tended to do. Each day was the same for the pair. They met at Francis' flat and walked to school. Then at the end of the day they met at the front of the school to walk home. Since Alastair often worked late the two friends would go to Elizabeth's to do homework and hang out.

Francis tried desperately to teach the young Brit how to cook, but somehow the food always ended up slightly burnt. While things between the Kirkland siblings were still tense the environment was lighter. To Elizabeth everything was finally, almost perfect.

Well it was until that day.

* * *

Elizabeth tapped her foot impatiently as she waited at the front gate of the school. Francis was late.

"Where is that, wanker?" the blonde girl murmured as she glanced at her new watch which was a birthday present from Francis. The silver band gleamed in the sunlight and a small smile lit the Brit's face as she fingered the watch face.

Recently, the green eyed girl had found herself feeling new warmth in her heart when she thought of the Frenchman. She wasn't sure what the feeling was, but it grew stronger when she was with him.

Suddenly, she heard his melodic laugh and turned toward the sound intent on giving him a tongue lashing. The words died on her lips when she saw the sight before her.

Francis was on the front steps of the school and he had his arms wrapped around the waist of a beautiful dark haired girl.

Elizabeth felt her heart clench and she was abruptly filled with anger and sadness.

_'Who the Hell is she and why is Francis wrapped around her?'_ the blonde girl thought as she stood frozen watching the pair.

To the Brit's utter horror Francis leaned forward and kissed the dark haired girl. The blonde girl instantly felt like she had been punched in the stomach and crumpled into herself slightly. Her fight or flight instinct took over and she spun to run home. Tears stung the English girl's eyes as she ran for all she was worth.

_'Why am I so upset? I know Francis has been out with other girls,'_

**_'But you've never seen him with them,'_**** a** little voice responded in the girl's head.

_'That doesn't explain anything,'_

**_'Doesn't it?'_**

_'NO! I don't understand,'_

**_'Idiot, you're jealous of that trollop, because you are in love with him,'_**

_'WHAT!?'_ the blonde girl thought as she let herself into her apartment amazed at how fast she had arrived. The little voice chuckled cruelly at her.

**_'You're in love with him, stupid, and, have been for a while. You are so dense,'_**

Elizabeth numbly walked to the green couch and sat down. She absently picked up a matching throw pillow and clutched it to her chest.

"I can't be in lo…that with him. He's my best friend. He's like a brother to me," the green eyed girl muttered into the cushion.

**_'But he's not your brother,'_**

"He'd never see me like that. I'm…well I'm me and he's…perfect. He could only love someone perfect like him,"

**_'You'll never know unless you tell him,'_**

"I can't do that. I can never do that, because then everything will change. I can't lose the only good thing in my life," Elizabeth buried her head in the pillow and fought back a frustrated sob.

She jumped when she heard a knock at the front door.

"Elisabet, it's Francis," the Frenchman's lilting voice called through the door. The Brit hurriedly straightened up her appearance and went to the door. She opened it slowly and kept her eyes cast downward.

"Come in," she said quietly and hurried to the kitchen. She needed tea pronto! Francis watched the English girl thoughtfully. He could tell she was upset.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" the blonde boy asked as he followed the green eyed girl in to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. He caught her flinch slightly at the question.

"I did and you were late. My time is precious so I went ahead without you," Elizabeth said as she went about filling the kettle with water.

"I've been late before and you 'ave waited. Let's try zhis again," the Frenchman pressed.

"I just didn't feel like waiting today,"

"Lapin, I 'ave known you for zhree yearz now, I know when you are lying and upzet. What 'appened? Did zomezhing 'appen at school? Tell big brozher zo 'e can 'elp,"

Elizabeth felt her heartache when he called himself big brother and nearly dropped the box of tea in her hand.

_'Why is this so hard? Why can't I just pretend that nothing happened? I don't want things to change,'_

A gentle hand fell on the Brit's shoulder and she flinched in surprise. Turning her head slowly, Elizabeth looked into Francis' concerned blue eyes and her throat constricted.

_'Don't look at me like that. Don't look at me with brotherly concern,'_ the blonde girl thought as she felt her hands clench into fists and tremors of pent up emotions pulsed through her body.

"Elisabet?" Francis said and moved his hand to stroke her hair. Unable to bear the all too familiar touch the English girl shoved past the Frenchman and bolted for the living room.

She needed distance. She needed to think, but the little voice in her head had decided to start up a vicious little chant of **_'Tell him! Tell him! Tell him!'_**

The Brit had barely made it into the living room before a strong pair of hands took hold of her shoulders and spun her around.

"Let me go!" Elizabeth exclaimed as she struggled against the Frenchman's hold.

"Elisabet!" Francis said forcefully making the Brit instantly stop her struggles. The blonde man had never spoken so harshly to the English girl. Even when they were bickering horribly there had always been gentleness to his voice.

"Look at me," he commanded but the Brit only took a quavering breath keeping her eyes downcast. With a frustrated growl the Frenchman took the girl's chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing her gaze to his. The look of anguish and fear that swam in the girl's emerald eyes made his heart clench.

"Mon lapin," he said gently his fiery sapphire eyes softening. "You know zhat you don't 'ave to shoulder your struggles alone. I'm 'ere for you. Zo, pleaze, tell me what 'az you zo upzet,"

Francis watched the conflict in the English girl's eyes as a myriad of emotions swirled in the beautiful green orbs.

"I can't," she finally said and tried to turn her face away from him. The Frenchman's hold was strong though and prevented her evasion.

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Because if I do then things will change and I will lose you,"

"Zhere iz no way you could ever loze me, cher,"

"Promise?"

"Cross mon coeur," the blue eyed man said as he released the Brit's chin and made an 'X' over his heart.

"All right," Elizabeth said as she took hold of Francis' shirt collar and pulled his face to her own.

"I love you," she said before she pressed her lips to the Frenchman's and electricity coursed through her veins.

_'What am I doing? This is crazy, and yet…It feels so right,'_ the English girl thought as Francis' hands suddenly rested on her shoulders and uncertainty took hold of the Brit.

_'What is he doing? Is he going to push me away or pull me closer?'_ the English girl's thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening.

"Oi! What the Hell are you doing?" a deep male voice called out causing the pair to separate. Emerald and sapphire eyes turned to meet the angry glare of Alastair Kirkland.

"Alastair, it'z not what it lookz like," Francis exclaimed as he quickly pulled himself away from Elizabeth.

"Oh, I think it's exactly what is looks like," the fiery red head said as he stalked toward the younger male and grabbed his shirt collar. "I knew one day you were going to pull something like this. I'm just glad I caught you only kissing her,"

"Alastair, let him go. He didn't kiss me. I kissed him," Elizabeth exclaimed as she took hold of her brother's arm and tried vainly to get him to release the younger man.

"I'm sure you only did it because he encouraged you to. Sneaky little French bastard," the green eyed man said as his grip tightened on the shirt collar.

"No, I…" the blonde girl started.

"You're right Alastair. I made a mistake and I'm sorry," Francis said flatly and the Brit froze. Bewildered emerald eyes looked up at Francis, but he had his face turned away his hair hiding his expression.

_'No! He can't mean that? He had to have felt what I felt, right?'_ the blonde girl thought as she felt her body go numb. Alastair released the Frenchman with a disgusted growl and shook the English girl off his arm.

"Get the Hell out of my house and if you ever come near Elizabeth again I will end you. Do we have an understanding?" the redhead asked with malice.

"Oui," Francis said simply and quickly moved past the Kirkland siblings.

"Francis," Elizabeth called as she moved to follow the Frenchman, but a strong hand took hold of her arm holding her in place.

"Elizabeth go to your room," Alastair ordered harshly. The Brit turned her gaze on her brother and glared at him.

"No! I have to go talk to him," the green eyed girl said as she violently struggled against her brother's grip.

"You will never speak to him again. Do you understand me?" the older Kirkland said turning weary, authoritative emerald eyes toward the young girl. Elizabeth's own emerald eyes widened in shock briefly, but quickly became angry slits.

"You can't tell me who I may or may not speak to. I have to go talk to him now. I have to fix this. I can't lose the only good thing I have in my life," the Brit said turning her gaze back to the empty doorway. She failed to see the slight flash of hurt in Alastair's eyes. For a brief second the redhead considered letting her chase after the Frenchman, but he needed to protect her.

"This subject is not up for discussion. Now I will only say this once more. Go to your room," the green eyed man said and his voice held a note of finality that shattered Elizabeth's resolve. The Brit felt her whole body go lax and she hung her head in defeat. Slowly she shuffled toward the hall that led to her bedroom.

"I hate you," the English girl murmured and then dashed for her room. Alastair flinched at the girl's words and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Elizabeth. Hopefully, some day you'll see that everything I do is because I think it is what's best for you. It may not seem like it, but I do love you, baby sister," Alastair said quietly and then trudged into the kitchen for a drink.

* * *

**Character list:**

**Elizabeth Kirkland=FemEngland**

**Francis Bonnefoy=France**

**Alastair Kirkland=Scotland**

**Alawn Kirkland=Wales**

**Aaron Kirkland=N. Ireland**

**Sigrid=FemNorway**

**Ioana=FemRomania**

**Michelle=Seychelles**

**Drama, drama everywhere! So there's the first part! Oh what other trials lay ahead? Read on to find out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: All right, so how are we enjoying the drama so far? **

**I swear Alastair is not being a douche on purpose. He just is trying to protect his sister. I mean the guy became a 'dad' at like 22. While his friends were going out partying he has to work and care for another person. Major responsibility. Doesn't help he got her in those teenage years. **

**PunkFemEngland! I really don't mean for her to come off as slutty. She really is trying to move past Francis. She can't help she has a type though. Romania is that one friend we all have who knows what's best for us but gives the message harshly. **

**I feel Francis is always portrayed as a sex crazed lech. Here he is still a horndog, but with a more mature, brotherly air.**

**Okay so the drama train doesn't stop here. More to come my loves! I tried to make all the French pretty self-explanatory. I may go back to write translations. Constructive comments and favs are love! I only own the story!**

* * *

Elizabeth sat on her bed clutching the stuffed mint bunny Francis had given her for her birthday last year. She buried her face into the plushie's fur and smelled him which only made her sob harder.

**"I made a mistake and I'm sorry,"**

Francis' words played over and over again in her head like some kind of cruel chant.

"I…knew this…would happen," the blonde hiccupped between sobs. "I knew he…he couldn't love me. Not…not like I…love him,"

**_'Did he actually say that?'_** the cruel little voice asked with an odd lilt.

_'You can be quiet. This is your fault. If I just buried my feelings I'd still have him,'_

**_'Really? You haven't lost him yet, you know,'_**

_'I think he was pretty clear when he called what happened a 'mistake'. Seems pretty cut and dry to me,'_

**_'So you're giving up?'_**

_'Yes. I learned something today,'_

**_'Oh, and what is that?'_**

_'Love is pain,'_

**_'So you're just never going to love anyone?'_** the voice asked incredulously.

_'No, sadly that isn't possible, but if I keep everyone at arm's length then it will hurt less. Unrequited love is better than actual love,'_

**_'That's stupid,'_**

_'Well it's all I have. So it's what I'll do,'_

**_'You'll have to let someone in someday. You can't always run from your feelings,'_**

_'Not if I can help it,'_

**_'Fine! Have fun being alone forever,'_**

"That's fine. I'm use to being alone," Elizabeth whispered as she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

Francis lay in bed as the events of the day played over and over in his head.

**"I love you,"** She had said before her lips had pressed to his. His fingers absently traced his lips as he recalled the feel of her lips. It had been so wrong for them to kiss. They were practically family, and yet it had felt so…So right!

Electricity had shot through his body and frozen him in place. He had been just about to return the kiss when Alastair had come in. Only then did he feel what happened was wrong.

Then when he left she had called his name with such anguish. It had taken all his will power to not turn around and go to her. He knotted his hands in his hair and growled in frustration.

His emotions were so conflicting and all over the place that it was giving him a headache.

"Deep breazhs, Francis. Juzt breazh and zhink zhis zhrough," he said aloud and took several calming breathes.

"Okay, zo Elisabet lovez me more zhan az a brozher. Zince we aren't actually related zhat makez zhe kiss okay. Zhe only reazon I zhought it waz wrong waz becauze I zee her az mon soeur. If I ztep back and zhink of 'er now…"

Francis closed his eyes and thought of the blonde girl. She was barely fourteen and just blossoming into a woman. She is an attractive girl, but as his thoughts began to wander down that road he became disgusted with himself. He is freaking eighteen and shouldn't be thinking of a fourteen year old like that.

"I'll juzt 'ave to talk to 'er when I zee 'er next. Zhis iz probably juzt zome zilly school girl crush. Once we talk everyzhing will be az it waz before," Francis said aloud, but somewhere deep in his heart he knew that things would never be the same again.

* * *

Three and a half weeks passed before the pair saw each other again. Elizabeth wouldn't say she had been avoiding Francis. It was just harder to see each other since Alastair made it a point to walk the Brit to school in the morning. During the day school kept them separated since they were in different grades that rarely mixed. That left after school, but again Alastair had a way of checking up on Elizabeth. The older Kirkland had Elizabeth check in with their neighbor an eccentric Polish man named Feliks.

This day, however, the Brit was greeted with a surprise. When she knocked on Feliks door to check in she was shocked to find Francis answered the door.

"Mon lapin, it iz zo good to zee you," the Frenchman said with a happiness that did not reach his eyes.

"Francis?! What are you doing at Feliks'?" the English girl asked incredulously.

"I played 'ookie today zo I could get to know your neighbor and convince 'im to let me zpeak to you," the blonde man said simply.

"It's like totally cool. He's like a totally awesome guy and your brother is like so lame for keeping you two apart. I've totes got this," Feliks called from inside the apartment.

"Merci, mon ami. I will be sure to bring you zhose 'air productz zhis weekend," the blue eyed man said as he made to depart.

"Sounds good. Laters," the Polish man said as the door closed.

The two teens now found themselves alone in the hallway. An awkward silence fell upon them and seemed to stretch on for hours.

"I've mizzed you," Francis said breaking the silence, but did not look at the younger girl.

"I've missed you as well, but you shouldn't have done this. Alastair will kill you if he finds out," the Brit replied but did not look at the Frenchman.

"You let me worry about zhat. Right now we need to talk about zhe last time we zaw each ozher,"

"No we really don't,"

"Oui, we do,"

"Francis, it was a mistake. You said so yourself. I had a silly little crush, but now I'm over it. So let's go back to the way things were before,"

Silence fell between them again and they still did not look at each other.

Suddenly, Francis stepped forward and pulled Elizabeth into a hug.

"Zhat zounds good. I don't know what I would do wizhout my little zister," the blue eyed man said with an odd note to his words.

"I'm glad things haven't changed between us," the green eyed girl said returning the hug, but knew deep in her heart that there was no going back.

* * *

Time passed and to Elizabeth's great displeasure her world took a downward turn. Anger became her default emotion and a permanent scowl graced the blonde's face. Fights with Alastair became more frequent and vicious. Alastair had remained adamant that she and Francis were to remain separated. The pair had the occasional get together at Feliks', but soon school pressures brought those moments to a stop. The school year ended quickly and Francis graduated. The Frenchman's mother had him start working for the Ad agency where she was employed immediately after school was done. All these changes made it impossible for the two to see each other.

While this brought great distress to the Brit it was also a great relief. Her love for Francis was still very deep, but it angered her greatly to have to bury those feelings while around him. She tried to forget her feelings for Francis, but to no avail. No matter what or who she turned to for a distraction he was always there in her thoughts.

* * *

"Francis! Francis!" Elizabeth panted as she ground her hips urgently against the blonde man's hips she straddled.

"Name's Mathias, sweetheart," the blonde man said as he pulled himself back from the Brit to look at her with blue eyes.

_'They're the wrong shade,'_ the blonde thought and that suddenly pissed her off.

"Do you want to snog or not?" the English girl growled and pulled the tall man's face to hers.

_'Damn, why did I think that? Why did I call him by that frog's name?'_ the green eyed girl thought angrily as the blonde man moved from her lips to her neck instantly silencing her thoughts. She tangled her hands in his hair and again ground her hips.

"Want to go back to my place?" Mathias whispered huskily in Elizabeth's ear making the Brit shudder.

"I thought you'd never ask," the green eyed girl responded as she slid clumsily from his lap in her intoxicated state. The blonde man rose from his seat and took hold of the English girl's hand. He led her through the crowded club toward the exit. They had barely made it out to the street when Mathias suddenly lurched forward and tumbled to the ground taking Elizabeth with him.

"What the bloody Hell?" the blonde girl exclaimed as she clambered drunkenly off the blue eyed man and rose to her feet. Upon standing the English girl found herself facing an angry looking blonde man with a cross clip in his hair.

"Mathias, what are you doing with this tramp?" the blonde asked as his violet eyes bore into Elizabeth.

"Oh, Lukas, there you are. Look I found us a girl to have a three way with," Mathias said as he clumsily rose to his feet. He then threw an arm over the green eyed girl's shoulders and kissed her cheek sloppily.

"She's a pretty one and she's a punk. You like punk girls, right?"

The angry blonde, Lukas apparently, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head in frustration.

"Why is it that when you're drunk you are suddenly straight?"

Abruptly, the smaller blonde grabbed the tie that Mathias was wearing and jerked it roughly. This caused it to tighten and cut off the blue eyed man's air supply.

"We're going home now, moron, and you will be sleeping on the couch," Lukas said as he began walking away still holding on to the tie. Mathias released Elizabeth and tugged desperately at the offending necktie. He was forced to follow the smaller man if he wished to live.

Elizabeth stood dumbfounded for a moment, but quickly went to her default of anger.

"Bloody fucking wonderful!" the Brit exclaimed and kicked at the sidewalk and dug into her purse for her mobile.

"Better call Ioana to take us home since my night is shot," the blonde found the sought after device and quickly dialed her Romania friend.

"Hello?"

"Ioana, where are you? I need a lift home,"

"What happened to your 'Francis replacement'?" Ioana teased.

"I told you to stop calling all the guys I hook up with that. They don't all look like Francis," Elizabeth growled into the phone.

"Oh, please. Every single guy you have ever been with has had blonde hair and blue eyes. Just like a certain Frenchman I know,"

"Remind me of three,"

"There was the Swedish guy, the Dutch guy, the Estonian guy, and the guy you were with tonight. If there is a blue eyed blonde anywhere near you, you will hook up with him,"

"Whatever! I still need a ride. Are you still in the night club?" the English girl said angrily and massaged her forehead.

"No. When I saw you getting 'friendly' with that Danish guy I decided to find a 'friend' of my own. I kind of have him tied up right now,"

"So you just left me here? Why are we friends again?"

"Because we've known each other since primary school and I'm one of maybe three people who know you aren't the angry bitch you make yourself out to be. A walk home will do you a world of good. Oh gotta go. He's managed to slip out of my bindings,"

The phone line went dead and the blonde girl stood staring at her mobile.

_'I swear the next time I see her I'm going to pull out that fang of hers,'_ Elizabeth thought angrily as she kicked a nearby bin.

"Now, what do I do?" the Brit muttered as she started trudging in the direction of her flat. A crisp fall wind blew around the blonde causing her to shudder. Her fishnet stockings, black mini skirt, and torn Union Jack t-shirt did nothing for keeping her warm. She rubbed at her bare arms and sighed heavily.

"I'll freeze before I even make it half way home," the green eyed girl grumbled and glanced at her mobile.

_'Ioana is no help and I can't call Sigrid. She's still mad from the last time we went out. I could call…'_ Elizabeth shook her head violently before she could finish her thought. _'No! Absolutely not! I'll welcome death before I'll call him,'_

Twenty minutes later and one particularly cold breeze later Elizabeth dialed a very familiar number. Francis answered on the fourth ring.

"'ello?"

"Francis,"

"Elisabet? What'z wrong? Merde, do you know what time it iz?"

"I need you to come get me," the English girl said bluntly.

"What? Where are you?" the Frenchman asked and Elizabeth could picture him absently trying to fix his hair.

"I'm maybe two blocks from that new nightclub that opened a month ago,"

The line went deathly silent for a moment before Francis responded.

"Elisabet why, my under age friend, are you at a nightclub on zchool night? Ezpecially one zhat iz on zhe ozher zide of zhe city?"

The Brit flinched slightly at the very aggravated tone of the blue eyed man's voice.

"Alistair was being a particularly spectacular bastard tonight and I needed to blow off some steam," the emerald eyed girl said unapologetically and heard Francis sigh heavily on the other side of the line.

"Are you in a safe place?"

"There's a pub called The Shamrock and Thistle. I'll wait there for you,"

"Bon," and with that the line went dead. Elizabeth sighed and trudged over to the pub.

"Could this night get any worse?"

* * *

**Character list:**

**Elizabeth Kirkland=FemEngland**

**Francis Bonnefoy=France**

**Alastair Kirkland=Scotland**

**Alawn Kirkland=Wales**

**Aaron Kirkland=N. Ireland**

**Sigrid=FemNorway**

**Ioana=FemRomania**

**Michelle=Seychelles**

**Oh, honey, you never ask if it can get worse. Hope y'all enjoyed! See you next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hope you all are enjoying yourselves. I love a good drama! I tried to make all the French pretty self-explanatory. I may go back to write translations. Constructive comments and favs are love! I own nothing but the story!**

* * *

Elizabeth sat in the pub looking out the window expectantly as she nursed the pint she had ordered. She needed a little liquid courage to help her through this. When was the last time she had seen Francis? A year ago? She couldn't even recall.

She absently played with her green streaked hair as she stared out the window unaware of a man approaching her.

"Hello there," a deep accented voice said causing the English girl to jump. Scared green eyes turned toward the voice and met cold violet ones.

"Er…hi," the blonde girl said nervously as she eyed the man sitting across from her. He was rather large with silvery blonde hair and a creepy childish smile.

"I may buy you a drink, da?" the violet eyed man asked.

_'Cripes! He's Russian,'_

"No, that is quite all right. I already have one you see and my…boyfriend will be here soon to take me home," the English girl lied and hoped that the Russian man did not notice her trembling hands. This man gave her a bad vibe.

"It is very rude to lie," the violet eyed man said with an edge to his voice, but his sickly sweet smile never faltering.

"I'm not lying. He'll be here shortly and he is a bit possessive," Elizabeth said curtly wishing that this strange man would get the clue and bugger off.

Elizabeth reached out to pick up her pint, but found her wrist trapped by the Russian's large hand.

"You should be nicer to those that want to show you kindness," the silvery haired man stated coolly as his grip grew tighter.

"Oi! Let me go," the Brit said with a hint of fear in her voice as she struggled against the man's hold. The Russian man moved to rise from his seat and Elizabeth felt her stomach drop.

_'What is this nutter planning? Francis I need you!' _the blonde girl thought as terror gripped her heart.

"Mon lapin 'oo iz your friend?" a certain French accent queried and Elizabeth turned joyfully to her savior. She was amazed that even though it was now 3:30 in the morning the blue eyed man still managed to look well put together in a white button up shirt, tan slacks, and brown loafers.

The Frenchman looked at the Brit with concern, but then shifted dangerous eyes to the man gripping her wrist. The silver haired man released the girl and turned his creepy smile toward the blonde man.

"I could ask the same of you, da?"

Francis opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the green eyed girl.

"This is my boyfriend. The possessive one I was telling you about," venom dripped from the British girl's words as she rubbed at her wrist that was already beginning to bruise. Francis quickly took in the situation and moved to the girl's side. He wrapped a protective arm around her waist.

"Merci for keeping mon amour company. Elisabet zay bon nuit to your friend we are leaving," Francis said so coldly it could have frozen blood in veins. The blonde girl nodded in salutation and allowed herself to be guided out of the pub. Once they exited the pub she tried to pull out of the blonde man's hold, but this only made him grip her tighter.

"Get in," Francis commanded as he at last released the Brit and opened the door for her. She huffed at him but climbed into the sedan. The Frenchman slammed the door and stalked to the driver side.

"Zeat belt," he stated curtly as he climbed into the vehicle, buckled himself in, and shoved the key into the ignition. Elizabeth had barely gotten the belt fastened before the car lurched out onto the street.

Uncomfortable silence filled the air and Elizabeth fidgeted tensely under its weight. Unable to bear the silence, but unwilling to speak she turned on the radio. Quiet music filled the vehicle as some pop star sang about her broken heart.

They continued to not speak as the song changed. It was a song that Elizabeth recognized and actually liked. She wouldn't openly admit it though because it contrasted with her punk persona. Francis seemed to recognize the song as he quietly mouthed the words. The Frenchman chuckled to himself as the song reached the chorus and the Brit looked at him quizzically.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, mon lapin. Nothing at all," the blonde man said with a slight shake of his head.

"Wanker," the green eyed girl muttered and crossed her arms over her chest. Francis watched the blonde girl from the corner of his eye and frowned.

"Zo are you going to tell me what led to zhis little adventure?" the blue eyed man asked flatly.

"I already told you. Alastair was being a bastard,"

"And what made 'im a bastard? Well more zo zhan normal,"

"We had a fight about 'my ungrateful attitude' and 'fashion choices'," the English girl made air quotes around her statement.

"Zhat typically doezn't zet you off," Francis commented with concern in his voice.

"It was what he said after that that pushed me over the edge," the Brit grimaced and pulled her knees up to her chest. Her arms wrapped around her knees in a familiar, comforting position.

"What did 'e zay?" Francis asked as his grip on the steering wheel tightened aggressively. This went unnoticed by Elizabeth as she had turned her head to look out the window. She could never admit that he was the cause for her actions. After Alastair had finished verbally attacking her about her attitude and apparel he had attacked Francis. He blamed the Frenchman for Elizabeth's personality changes. This had pissed the Brit off more than it really should have and she had stormed out of the apartment furiously.

Francis waited patiently for Elizabeth to respond but quickly realized that no explanation was coming. The Frenchman sighed sadly. He desperately missed the girl who used to be able to confide in him. He missed his 'little sister'.

The blue eyed man glanced at the woman beside him and a nostalgic ache filled his heart. She had been in a very similar position when they met, but now there were very distinct differences. Her scrawny jean clad legs were now lithe and wrapped seductively in fish nets. Seductively? A mini skirt barely covered her sultry hips. Sultry? He could see the curve of her breasts against the t-shirt.

_'Francis! What zhe 'ell? Zhis iz Elisabet! Zhe girl 'oo iz like your zister,'_ the Frenchman berated himself.

**_'But she iz not your zister,'_** the dark lusty part of Francis teased and the blonde man had to beat the voice back.

"How's your mum?" Elizabeth suddenly asked snapping Francis from his questionable thoughts.

"She iz well. Remember zhat American she waz zeeing?" the Frenchman asked thankful for the conversation.

"Yes, he seemed like a nice bloke. What about him?" the Brit queried turning her gaze toward the blue eyed man.

"Mama and 'e eloped last week," Francis said with a slight hint of sadness in his voice.

"Why doesn't that make you happy?" the green eyed girl asked with some confusion.

"Oh non I am very 'appy for zhem. I 'ave not zeen mama zo 'appy before. It iz juzt…" the blonde man trailed off and turned his head away so she could not see the pained look on his face.

"Francis what aren't you telling me?" the English girl asked as she straightened her legs and turned toward the Frenchman.

Francis gave a heavy sigh and pulled into the parking lot for their apartment building. He parked the blue sedan and took a moment to gather his courage. The Frenchman turned toward his dearest friend with deep sorrow in his eyes.

"I've been meaning to come and zpeak wiz you. Elisabet mama and I will be moving to Amerique in two weekz,"

The entire world stopped and shattered around Elizabeth in that one moment. This wasn't happening? He couldn't be leaving her? The only reason she hadn't been driven mad with her love for him was because he was here. Unrequited love was easier to deal with if he was here, but if he moves to America? Would she ever see him again?

The English girl jumped with a shriek when the blonde man placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Are you all right, mon lapin," Francis asked as he tried to search the girl's eyes.

Instantly, the green eyed girl went to her default emotion of anger. A scowl quickly over took the girl's face.

"No I'm not bloody fucking all right! My best friend is abandoning me to move to fucking America! Why would I be okay?" the English girl screamed as she turned and opened the car door. She quickly climbed out of the vehicle, slammed the door, and stormed toward the building. She had to get distance. She needed to calm down before she did something she would regret. She could hear Francis quickly following her and broke into a run.

"Elisabet!" the Frenchman cried as he chased after the blonde girl. The Brit made it into the lobby and stairwell before the blue eyed man caught up to her. The blonde man caught hold of her un-bruised wrist and pulled her roughly to his chest.

"Let me go, you bloody frog! I don't want to talk to you right now!" the green eyed girl cried out as she struggled viciously in his grip and fought back her tears. She would not cry in front of him damn it.

"Zhen juzt listen," the blue eyed man barked in aggravation. Realizing that she had no choice the Brit stopped her struggles and went limp.

"Fine," she muttered.

"Firzt, I am not abandoning you. Juzt becauze I move across zhe Atlantic doez not mean zhat we will never zee each ozher again. Zecond, you are my dearest friend and I am bezide myself 'aving to leave you. I do not want zhis, but I 'ave no choice. Pleaze try and underztand, mon lapin. If I could take you wizh me I would," Francis said as he buried his face into the smaller girl's hair.

"Francis I am too upset and tired right now to discuss this rationally. Please let me go and give me at least tonight to sort this out," the blonde girl said softly. As much as Elizabeth was enjoying being in Francis' arms she needed space. The Frenchman released her reluctantly.

As soon as she found herself freed the blonde girl ran up the stairs to her floor. She dared not to look back to see him looking at her with those eyes that only held familial love for her.

* * *

Weariness soaked her body straight to the bone. All the Brit wanted at this moment was to crawl into her bed and let the sweet oblivion of sleep take her. However, the universe obviously hated her.

As soon as she opened the flat door she was met with the enraged green eyed stare of Alastair.

"Where the fuck have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is?" the red head demanded angrily his arms crossed over his chest. Elizabeth returned his stare with a vicious glare of her own.

"As if you actually care," the Brit retorted as she made to go to her room.

"I am not finished talking to you," the green eyed man growled stalking forward and grabbing his sister by the wrist. The blonde hissed in pain as his hand wrapped around her bruised wrist. Alastair froze and quickly looked at the injured area. He examined it for a minute before he glowered at the younger girl.

"Who did this to you?" the older man queried through clenched teeth. The English girl frowned at her brother and tried to pull away.

"No one it's nothing,"

"This isn't 'nothing' Elizabeth. Now tell me who hurt you. Was it that French arsehole?" Alastair growled barely containing his anger.

At this Elizabeth felt pure, unadulterated rage rise in her chest. All the emotions from her day banded together and the Brit lashed out with all her fury.

"Don't you dare talk about Francis! He has never done anything for you to hate him so much!" the blonde girl roared.

"Really?! So I imagined him taking advantage of you?" the red head stated with venom in his voice.

"This again?! I've told you before I'm the one who kissed him," she stated incredulously.

"You know I don't believe that for a minute,"

"I don't care what you believe. It's because of you I haven't seen him until tonight,"

"So it was him. Damn it I knew I should have sent you to live with Alawn. If for no other reason than to get you away from that pervert,"

"He is not a pervert and you don't have to worry because he's moving to America!" Elizabeth shrieked and her body went completely limp as despair over took her. She would have crumpled to the floor if Alastair had not moved forward and cradled her to his chest.

Normally the Brit would never cry in front of or take comfort from her brother. At this moment though she could care less. All her pent up emotions from the past few years poured out of her in the form of body racking sobs. Uncertain of what to do the green eyed man held tightly to his sibling and rubbed gentle circles into her back.

"Sh…It's okay lass. Don't worry brother has you," he spoke gently to the distraught young woman. As the English girl continued to cry the green eyed man slowly lowered them both to sit on the floor. He pulled the smaller girl on to his lap and she shifted her head so she cried into his shoulder.

The red haired man held tightly to the girl and he couldn't help remembering when she was younger. Though the Kirkland siblings had very strained relationships with each other not all moments together had been bad ones. Alastair could remember times when Elizabeth was sick or injured as a young girl. He would hold her as he did now and soothe away her pain.

They sat like that for an unknown amount of time. Eventually the green eyed girl cried herself out and fell asleep. Alastair looked down into her now cherub like face and a small smile crept onto his face. She looked so peaceful and his heart ached that he never really saw her like this often. When had she become the ever angry young woman he lived with? He did not understand what had overcome his little sister, but he knew it had to do with the French bastard.

A fatigued yawn escaped his mouth and the green eyed man grudgingly worked to get to his feet. Not a simple feat since he had a sleeping Brit in his arms. Miraculously he made it to his feet and carried the slumbering blonde to her bed.

"I don't know what's going on Elizabeth," Alastair said as he removed the girl's boots and tucked her into bed. "But I'll do whatever it takes to protect you,"

The green eyed man kissed his sister's forehead and walked toward the door. He was so thankful he had the day off so he could sleep in. Just before he closed the door the older man took one last look at his sister.

"Love you little sister," he whispered with a hint of sadness in his voice and shut the door.

* * *

The day before Francis was to leave Elizabeth found herself standing nervously at his door. She had come to terms with him leaving but still she hesitated to see him. Mustering her resolve the Brit knocked firmly on the door.

"Coming," a male voice sang out from the other side of the door.

_'I can't do this! I can't say good-bye!'_ the green eyed girl thought frantically and was about to bolt for it when the door opened. Smiling sapphire eyes connected to panicked emerald and they froze.

"Better late zhan never," the Frenchman said happily as he quickly pulled Elizabeth into a hug instantly bringing the Brit out of her frozen state.

"Oi, git enough of that. I don't have long to talk," she said and wrestled herself from his hold.

"Alastair ztill 'as you on a leash?" the blonde man pouted but indicated for his friend to enter.

"Always," The English girl sighed as she entered the flat. She was slightly taken back by the sheer emptiness of the flat. Her heart cinched as a flood of happy memories of when the flat was full of life filled her mind. She flinched when a gentle hand fell on her shoulder.

"We 'ad many good times 'ere didn't we, mon petite?" Francis said with a melancholy air.

"Yeah," Elizabeth said weakly as her hands fisted at her sides. She hated this. Why did things always have to change?

The Frenchman sighed and sauntered over to the couch that still sat in the living room. He gracelessly flopped on to the cushions and indicated for the Brit to join him. The green eyed girl shuffled to the couch and sat on the edge of the cushion.

"So where do things go from here?" the blonde girl asked as she kept her eyes locked on her hands in her lap. She felt the cushions shift as Francis straightened himself up. A strong arm came around her shoulders and pulled her into a one armed hug.

"I'm not zure. All I know iz zhat I don't want to lose your friendship. Zhere are alwayz e-mailz and phone callz," the blue eyed man said dejectedly as he absently rubbed the Brit's upper arm.

"I guess that will have to do. Although, and I can't believe I'm going to admit this, I will miss the way you are so damn physically affectionate," Elizabeth said and shot Francis a half-hearted smirk. The Frenchman chuckled and placed a chaste kiss on the girl's temple.

"I will miss your grumpy insultz and, Dieu m'aide, your terrible cooking," Francis said and received an elbow to his midsection.

"Git, my cooking is wonderful. Your taste buds are just too over saturated with that rich French food to appreciate it," the Brit huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. The Frenchman rubbed his tender midsection, but firmly kept his arm around the green eyed girl.

"I'm going to miss this," the English girl whispered as she fought to keep a tremor from her voice. Francis turned toward the blonde girl with a sad smile on his face.

"Moi aussi,"

They fell into a comfortable silence. They were just happy to be able to spend what little time they had left together.

"When is your flight tomorrow?" Elizabeth asked downtrodden breaking the silence.

"Six-thirty. I did not know zhere was zuch an ungodly 'our," the blonde man said melodramatically.

"Then...I guess..." the Brit choked back a sob and took a steadying breathe."I guess this is where we have to say goodbye,"

Francis pulled the green eyed girl into a rib crushing hug and buried his face in her hair.

"Non, mon lapin. Zhis iz not adieu. We will zee each ozher again. Zo letz zay until we meet again," the Frenchman said as he felt tears sting his eyes.

"All right. Until we see each other again then," Elizabeth said as she grudgingly pushed the blonde man away. She didn't want to leave. She could have spent the rest of time wrapped in the Frenchman's embrace, but life was cruel like that. Always ripping away the things you held dearest.

"Do you really 'ave to leave now?" the Frenchman asked his sapphire eyes full of sadness as the Brit slowly rose to her feet.

"Yes, Alastair will be home soon," Elizabeth said softly with her eyes cast downward. She turned and trudged toward the door.

Francis wanted to follow her but his legs suddenly felt like they were wrapped in lead. He watched wordlessly as his dearest friend opened the door to the apartment and paused in the door frame. She smiled at him but it did not show in her eyes.

"Later frog," the English girl said with mock happiness.

"Later," the Frenchman said with his own fake happy smile. In the blink of an eye Elizabeth was gone and Francis couldn't help feeling that a little bit of himself went with her.

* * *

**Character list:**

**Elizabeth Kirkland=FemEngland**

**Francis Bonnefoy=France**

**Alastair Kirkland=Scotland**

**Alawn Kirkland=Wales**

**Aaron Kirkland=N. Ireland**

**Sigrid=FemNorway**

**Ioana=FemRomania**

**Michelle=Seychelles**

**These two can't ever catch a break can they? Now Francis is moving to America? What is poor Elizabeth to do? Guess you have to keep reading to find out. **


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: All right guys we've reached the end. I hope you enjoyed the ride. I hope y'all don't feel like Elizabeth was pathetic and stalkerish. Wouldn't you do everything you can to be near the one you love? If you love something let it go and if it comes back it was always yours. I tried to make all the French pretty self-explanatory. I may go back to write translations. Constructive comments and favs are love! I own nothing but the story!**

* * *

"All right zhat iz zhe last one," Francis called to his mother as she was speaking to the taxi driver.

"Bon mon cher. Let'z be off zhen," the French woman said with a smile as she climbed into the taxi. With a heavy sigh the Frenchman took one last look at the old brick building he had spent so many years living in. Nostalgia washed over him and the image of a smiling blonde girl made his heart cinch.

"Au revoir, mon lapin. Je t'aime," the blonde man muttered as he opened the door of the taxi to climb in.

"FRANCIS!" a frantic voice cried and Francis found himself being crushed in a hug from behind. Looking over his shoulder the Frenchman found a mass of familiar blonde hair.

"Elisabet?" he said with surprise as he observed that she was only wearing her pajamas and her hair hung loosely.

"Shut up! Just shut up and let me hug you one last time," the Brit exclaimed but allowed the blonde man to turn in her grip so that they faced each other.

"I'm zo 'appy you came to zee me off," Francis said as he returned the tight hug. Elizabeth leaned back and looked up at him incredulously.

"What? You think I would just let my best friend leave without seeing him off safely? Stupid frog,"

The Frenchman chuckled and looked adoringly down at his friend. They stood staring at each other for several minutes etching every detail of how the way the other looked into the memory.

"Oi! Are we leaving or what? I got other fairs to get to," the cabby said crossly snapping the two friends back to reality.

"I 'ave to go now, mon lapin," Francis said leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on the British girl's forehead.

"I know," Elizabeth said sadly as she released the blonde man and took a step back her mint green bunny slippers scraping the sidewalk.

"I'll call you as soon as we land in Amerique," Francis said as he climbed into the taxi.

"You'd better, git," the Brit said teasingly as the door to the taxi closed. As the vehicle started to pull away from the curb Francis rolled down his window and leaned out.

"Until we zee each ozher again, mon cher," he called out and waved to his friend.

"Until then," Elizabeth called back and waved until the taxi was out of sight. She stood frozen in place as a myriad of emotions crashed over her like a tsunami. After a time she squared her shoulders and stared at the place she had last seen Francis.

"Don't forget about me Francis because somehow, some way I'll see you again. Even if I have to follow you to America to do so,"

* * *

True to his word Francis called Elizabeth as soon as he landed in America. For the first year of their separation the pair called and e-mailed diligently. Sometimes multiple times a day.

Elizabeth finished her public education and enrolled in university. She even got a part time job to help with the bills. Her relationship with Alastair had even taken an upward turn.

Francis was working in his step-father's advertising firm and was being groomed to take over the company. He was immensely enjoying the fast pace of New York City and all its culture.

As time wore on and life grew more busy their communication slowly dwindled. This disheartened the Brit but her resolve never wavered. She would keep the line of communication open even if it became one sided.

Soon enough Elizabeth graduated from university a year early and with honors. With her degree in hand the English girl turned her attention to finding a job in the states. To her immense pleasure New York University had a position open for a librarian. It wasn't exactly a position that would make good use of her degree in literature, but it was something. She applied and got the job effortlessly.

As soon as she accepted the job the Brit e-mailed the Frenchman. It took Francis two weeks to reply which angered Elizabeth greatly. She forgave him quickly though when she read how excited he was for her.

With the money she had saved and the small inheritance she had from when her father passed the green eyed girl moved to New York City. Her studio apartment was rather small, but it was cheap and not in a bad part of the city.

A month into having moved to America and working around their schedules Elizabeth was going to finally see Francis.

* * *

Elizabeth could barely contain her excitement as she walked to the café she and Francis had agreed to meet at. She had taken extra care with her appearance since this was the first time in years that she would be seeing the Frenchman.

She wore a forest green sweater dress that hugged her curves and made her eyes stand out. She had on black leggings under the dress which tucked in to her high heeled boots. She had done her make-up rather simply to highlight her natural features. Her long blonde hair was loose and held back by a headband that matched her dress. Francis always liked when she wore her hair loose.

As she approached the café the Brit spotted the Frenchman standing out front obviously looking for someone. She instantly felt her heartbeat quicken along with her footsteps. She was only a few feet away when she noticed the blonde man turn his head and spoke to a lovely brunette woman standing next to him.

_'Who the bloody Hell is that?'_ the green eyed girl wondered and watched as the brunette kissed Francis' cheek. Realization washed over the Brit and she clenched her hand into a fist.

_'A girlfriend!? We're supposed to be meeting for the first time in years and HE BRINGS HIS BLOODY GIRLFRIEND?!' _Elizabeth raged internally as anger and jealousy consumed her.

_'Well the Hell with him. I'll just leave and we'll try this again later. Without his bloody gorgeous girlfriend,' _She spun on her heels and made to go back the way she came. The universe, however, obviously had it out for her.

"Elisabet?!" the blonde Frenchman called out freezing the Brit in place.

_'Damn it all to the poison river of Hel,'_ Elizabeth cursed mentally as she turned around with a smile plastered on her face.

"Francis," she said cheerily as the Frenchman rushed to her and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Oh mon lapin it 'as been too long," Francis said as he held the English girl even tighter. The Brit felt her anger ebb slightly at the mention of the old nickname and she returned the hug just as tightly.

"I missed you too, frog," Elizabeth said burying her face in his shoulder and eliciting a chuckle from the blue eyed man.

"You 'ave not changed,"

They stood hugging each other for several minutes until they heard someone clear their throat. Realizing how the scene looked Francis reluctantly released the Brit and turned his attention to the woman who had interrupted their reunion.

"Desole mon cher. I 'ave forgotten my manners," the Frenchman said as he wrapped his arm around the brunette's waist. "Elisabet zhis iz Michelle my girlfriend. Michelle zhis iz Elisabet,"

"Oh so you are the younger sister I have heard so much about," Michelle said as she extended a tan, manicured hand to Elizabeth.

"Actually we aren't related," the Brit said taking the pre-offered hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Oh, but Francis you always say she is your little sister," the brunette said turning questioning brown eyes toward the Frenchman.

"She iz LIKE mon petite soeur, cher. I apologize for zhe confuzion," Francis said and kissed the tan woman's cheek. Neither of them noticed the Brit stiffen at the gesture.

"Well," Elizabeth said clearing her throat. "Shall we go into the café? I need a cup of tea,"

"It's adorable how very British you are," Michelle said with a little giggle. The Brit felt her brow twitch, but she held her tongue. She was a lady after all.

The trio entered the café and found that it was fairly empty. They made their way to the counter and were greeted by the bubbly barista.

"Hello! What can I get for you today?" the busty blonde asked.

"Ladies," Francis said and gestured for his female companions to go first.

"After you," Elizabeth said to Michelle in an effort to be polite.

"Um…I'll have a skinny decaf latte small, please. Got to watch those calories," the tan woman said with a conspiratorial wink at the Brit. The blonde girl resisted the urge to roll her eyes and gave a weak smile.

"I'll have Earl Grey tea, thank you," the English woman placed her order.

"Skinny decaf latte small and Earl Grey tea. Sir what would you like?" the barista asked as she filled out the cups for the order and tapped things into her register.

"I will 'ave a small latte," the Frenchman said as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

"What are you doing? I can pay for my own drink," the green eyed girl protested.

"Nonsense, mon lapin. Zhis iz my treat to celebrate our reunion," the blue eyed man said as he handed his credit card to the barista.

"Fine, but next time I'm paying," Elizabeth said as she accepted her drink and the trio found an empty table. They all sat and sipped the drinks in amicable silence for a few moments.

"So, Lizzie, what brought you to America?" Michelle asked breaking the comfortable silence. The Brit's brow twitched at the horrendous nickname.

"It's Elizabeth and I came to America for work. I have a lovely job as a librarian at NYU," the English girl said successfully keeping her irritation out of her voice.

"Zhe job zuitz you well, mon lapin. You alwayz were zuch a bookworm," Francis said with a small chuckle. Elizabeth hid her smile behind her cup and noticed the annoyed glint in Michelle's eyes.

_'Jealousy looks good on you,'_ the Brit thought smugly.

"So, Elizabeth, are you seeing anyone because Francis has this friend, Antonio. I think you two would get along well," the brunette asked as she took hold of the Frenchman's hand that rested on the table. Again the Brit's brow twitched, but she kept her temper at bay.

"No I am not seeing anyone and I'm not looking at this time," the green eyed girl said simply.

"Elisabet was never very open about 'er romantic life. Alzhough zhe last time we zpoke you were zeeing a Japanese man. What waz 'iz name?" Francis asked politely.

"Kiku. His name was Kiku and we split up several months ago," the Brit stated not really wanting to discuss her love life.

"Oh that's too bad. What happened?" Michelle asked her curiosity having been peaked. Another brow twitch. This woman was really getting on the blonde's nerves.

"We just found that we made better friends than lovers,"

_'That and his tastes ran more toward Greek men,'_ Elizabeth thought a bit dejectedly. It would be her luck that the one relationship she had thought would get her past Francis was with a gay man.

"Well I'm sure you'll find someone like how I found Francis," the brown eyed girl said as she leaned toward the Frenchman and kissed his lips.

That was it. The straw that broke the camel's back. Elizabeth couldn't take anymore of this. She had come here to catch up with Francis and spend time with him like the old days. She had not come here to be a third wheel.

Abruptly, the Brit stood and put her bag on her shoulder. The other two looked at her in confusion.

"I just remembered that I needed to go to the library. There are some books I needed to pick up. It was nice to meet you Michelle. It was lovely to see you Francis and I'll talk to you later," Elizabeth said hurriedly as she quickly dashed out of the café. She heard Francis call her name several times, but she didn't stop as she melted into the ever crowded New York City sidewalks.

* * *

_'I must be a masochist to keep doing this to myself,'_ the blonde girl thought as she wandered the city streets near her apartment. She felt her cell phone vibrate for the umpteenth time and ignored it. She really didn't feel like talking to anyone right now. As she walked she took note of a sign up ahead: The Lion and Unicorn pub.

_'Maybe a drink will make me feel better,'_ she thought as she walked into the bar. The first thing she noticed upon entering was that the place was fairly crowded. Several groups of men were gathered around tables watching various sporting matches on the multiple televisions. Thankfully the bar itself was relatively empty. Four men in US military uniforms sat at the far end of the bar.

Elizabeth trudged up to the bar and took a seat. The bartender, a middle aged heavy set man, sauntered over and leaned on the counter.

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked giving the Brit an appraising look. Normally she would have bristled at his forwardness, but right now she could care less.

"Rum and leave the bottle," Elizabeth said as she pulled some cash from her purse and placed it on the bar. The bartender counted the bills and found it enough to cover a bottle. He took a few steps down the bar and came back with a shot glass and bottle. He poured the first shot and pushed it to the Brit.

"Thanks," the green eyed girl said before she downed the glass in one go. Six shots later the English girl was feeling only slightly better than she had when she started.

"Git could do so much better than that trollop. What's she got that I don't?" she muttered as she attempted to pour herself another drink, but the shot glass kept moving. Growing frustrated the blonde decided it was easier to drink from the bottle and took a long swig. Giving a satisfied sigh she set the bottle down and looked at the other end of the bar.

To her surprise one of the soldiers was looking back at her. He had dirty blonde hair cropped close to his head and beautiful light blue eyes.

_'Well he sure is a handsome bloke,'_ Elizabeth thought as she continued to stare at the man. _'Eyes are the wrong blue though,'_

The English girl turned back to her bottle and took another drink. She had just set the bottle down again when she felt someone take seat next to her.

"Hey gorgeous. What's a good lookin gal like you doin in a place like this?"

The Brit turned and found herself face to face with the soldier. His blue eyes held a hungry gleam.

_'Francis,'_ the green eyed girl thought as she stared into those blue eyes. She gave the soldier a lopsided smile and rested a hand on his thigh.

"Just looking for a good time," Elizabeth slurred as she leaned into the blonde man.

"Well what a coincidence so am I," the blue eyed man purred as his own hand moved to Elizabeth's thigh.

"Would you care to walk me home? It's not safe for a lady to walk home alone. My place is just around the corner," the Brit said as her hand brazenly moved to palm the soldier's crotch. A predatory smirk quickly over took the blonde man's face.

"Of course ma'am. It's the only proper thing to do," the soldier said as he slid from his bar stool and helped Elizabeth off of hers.

It only took fifteen minutes for the drunken pair to walk to the blonde woman's apartment. As soon as they entered the elevator the Brit launched herself at the blue eyed man pulling him into a sloppy kiss. The elevator dinged and the pair fumbled out of the lift; never breaking the kiss as they floundered to the English girl's door.

They broke their frantic kissing and fondling long enough for the door to be opened. The pair instantly reattached and stumbled into the apartment. The blonde man kicked the door shut and shrugged out of his jacket. Breaking apart momentarily, Elizabeth grabbed the hem of her dress and quickly pulled it up over her head as the soldier pulled off his shirt. They locked lips again with the Brit wrapping her arms around the blue eyed man's neck. He took hold of the blonde girl's thighs and lifted her slightly. Understanding what he wanted Elizabeth hopped up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

The soldier then carried the Brit to the bed and fell backward onto it heavily so Elizabeth was on top of him. His calloused hands trailed up the Brit's bare back and she moaned at the touch. Skilled hands quickly unhooked the green eyed girl's bra and the article sailed away to who knows where.

The blonde man then rolled over so that he was now on top.

"Be right back," he whispered against her lips and moved away from the Brit. Elizabeth whimpered at the loss of warm bodily contact. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched as the soldier removed his boots and socks. Realizing that her shoes were still on the English girl went about removing them.

As her hands went to the waistband of her leggings strong hands suddenly stopped them.

"No, no, no. I've always enjoyed unwrappin my gifts," the blue eyed man said as he moved the Brit's hands up above her head. He pinned them there and kissed the blonde girl. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and she opened her mouth automatically. Their tongues entwined and explored each other's caverns greedily.

The soldier released Elizabeth's hands and slowly trailed them down her arms making her shiver. His large hands came down to her chest and rough thumbs caressed her pert nipples causing the Brit to groan wantonly.

The blonde man smirked as he trailed kisses along the blonde girl's jaw and neck. His wandering lips traveled lower and captured a nipple. Elizabeth gasped at the sudden contact. As his tongue and teeth attacked the soft flesh of the Brit's breast his hands hitched into her leggings. He slid the clothing down and trailed kisses along the English girl's stomach as he removed the offending articles.

He stood towering over Elizabeth and smiled at her naked form.

"Damn you are one sexy lady," the soldier said as he removed the last vestiges of his own clothing. The Brit flushed at the compliment and raised her arms beckoning for him to return. The blonde man happily obliged and once again claimed the green eyed girl's lips. He placed a knee between her thighs and forced them to open wider. He then adjusted himself so that he was between her thighs. Elizabeth could feel the head of his erection pressing at her outer walls.

"Please," she whispered against his lips and that was all the encouragement he needed as he slammed into the Brit.

The English girl cried out at the rough intrusion, but quickly fell into rhythm with the soldier. This was not gentle love making this was fucking. Growls and pants filled the apartment as the pair aggressively moved with each other.

Elizabeth could feel her climax building as her lips moved to the soldier's neck and she left a fairly large love bite.

"Fuck that feels good," the blonde man said as his own lips moved to the Brit's shoulder and he bit down onto the soft flesh. That was enough to push Elizabeth over the edge.

"Francis," the Brit scream and she came hard clenching ever muscle in her body.

A satisfied roar escaped the soldier as the Brit clenched around him and with a few more powerful thrust he too found release. Feeling spent the blonde man withdrew from the green eyed girl and flopped on the bed beside her.

After a few moments, the soldier's heart rate had slowed to normal and he propped himself up on one elbow. He looked down at the Brit and found that she had fallen asleep. Reaching out he brushed a few stray hairs away from her slumbering face and smiled.

"I don't know who Francis is or what he did to you, but I do know he is a damn fool. Any man who would let you out of his sight has got to be a special brand of stupid," the blonde soldier said as he pushed off the bed. He gathered his clothes and quickly re-dressed. He then pulled the quilt on the bed over the Brit and left.

* * *

**Character list:**

**Elizabeth Kirkland=FemEngland**

**Francis Bonnefoy=France**

**Alastair Kirkland=Scotland**

**Alawn Kirkland=Wales**

**Aaron Kirkland=N. Ireland**

**Sigrid=FemNorway**

**Ioana=FemRomania**

**Michelle=Seychelles**

**Anyway, if y'all hadn't guessed I kinda don't care for Seychelles. Well at least in fanfiction anyway.**

**Also, the soldier was NOT America. He was some random guy I needed for plot device.**

**All right so now you need to go read "Always There" to see what happens next to our little pairing. See you next tale!**


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